Of Heroes and Villains
by tstansetis
Summary: A collection of drabbles, most involving Ghirahim and Link, but I reserve the right to add other characters, as well.
1. Red

Of Heroes and Villains

A collection of short drabbles from various points of view, most of which involve Link and Ghirahim, but I reserve the right to add other Characters...

I do not own any of the mentioned characters or the Legend of Zelda series.

The sky around me is endless. I look over the clouds, allowing my eyes to just wander as they please. It makes a bit more sense to me now, why the Sky Child enjoys his home so much. Of course, I prefer my scenery to be a bit more...elegant, but it is beautiful all the same. My feet dangle over the edge of the small island I sit on, and I look down at the barrier that used to separate our worlds. "Used to", because the Sky Child and I found ways around the barrier. "Used to" because the barrier now has gaping holes in it that anyone could get through, if they had the means. It strikes me as amusing that clouds could be used as a barrier of any sort, but apparently the Loftwings refused to fly below them - some sort of genetic code inflicted upon them by Hylia. The poor creatures. They lack the freedom that I have. Not that I pity them. Pity isn't an emotion that I can feel. I close my eyes, leaning back to feel the breeze blowing across my skin, as I think about how this part of the world will be once my Master is resurrected. No doubt Demise will have a special plan in mind to dispose of this village in the sky that the goddess holds so dear - the descendants of the few humans that managed to escape his wrath the first time the wretched bitch sealed him away. There will most definitely be bloodshed, and a lot of it. The thought makes my heart skip with joy. I think of the Sky Child's face, and I stop grinning for a moment. What will become of him when my master takes control of his pathetic world? A soft chuckle escapes my throat. Perhaps Master will let me keep the little cherub as a pet. Oh what joy that would bring me, to have him at my mercy like that. My eyes drift closed again and I can see him now, dressed in red, rather than that green that he wears - oh gods, he would look so delicious in red. The color of his blood - I would have to find a fabric exactly that shade, because it contrasts so nicely with his skin. I would most likely keep him shackled to the wall. He isn't the type to behave when cornered - he would be hard to control; hard to break, which would make it all the more fun to do both. He would fight back - he would resist me, just like he does when we happen across each other while we both search for his little friend. The thought of him chained to my bedpost makes me shiver in delight. I can think of no better way to spend my time after this is all over than by breaking the angel's spirit bit by bit, making him wish that he had just given in to begin with - but of course, he would never admit to wishing that. Long after he's broken, he will still put up a facade of bravery, which is what sets this one boy apart from all the other humans in my mind. I open my eyes once more, licking my lips. This future must become a reality. This boy must be mine. And with thoughts in my head that would make the Sky Child cringe, I turn to face his home, offer a salute, and snap my fingers, vanishing from his home. For the time being, at least.


	2. Up at the Clouds

The only thing I can register is that I am not in Skyloft anymore. My first thought is "not in Skyloft? That's ridiculous. What else is there!" But the rest of me knows. I've somehow managed past the endless sea of clouds that separate Skyloft from wherever I am now - and I'm on the surface. A place that was said to only be a fairy tale.

Most people in the sky don't believe in a surface world. The could barrier is as far down as anything goes. But the stories I've heard - about the great hero who saved everyone from the evil on the surface by sending Skyloft...well...skyward - they always made it hard for me to doubt the existence of SOMETHING below the clouds. Now that I'm here, it almost seems like a dream. I don't have time to sit and admire everything right now - Zelda still needs to be found, and Fi says that she is somewhere nearby. But the more I look around, the more I just want to stop - to touch things, and inspect and explore. I can't stop thinking about Pipit. He would love it down here - I bet he wouldn't even believe me if I told him about everything there was, especially the tiny birds (he likes to consider himself a bird expert. Imagine if he found out that there were entire species of birds that he hadn't even CONSIDERED). I want to bring him down with me someday, below the clouds, but there is a nagging voice at the back of my mind telling me that he would much rather come here with Karane. The thought stops me in my tracks, almost, but then I remember the importance of the task at hand. Fi hasn't told me a lot of details, I suspect that she knows more than she's letting on about why Zelda was snatched from the sky the way that she was. But now isn't the time.

I make my way through the woods. I've never seen so many trees before - and they're all so big. It's strange. I see little birds nesting inside the holes, and I wonder if that's how big they are going to get, or if they will grow to be the size of baby loftwings. My eyes drift up to the sky, and I suck in a breath in surprise. Never, have I ever, had a chance to actually look UP at the clouds. The very thought seemed impossible up in Skyloft, and now that it's real, I almost can't believe it. I'm looking UP. At the CLOUDS. I stand there in shock for a few moments before Fi materializes out of my sword, appearing in front of me.

"Master, we should get moving. Zelda is close by, I can sense her aura in the surrounding area."

My ears hear what she's saying, but my brain can't process the words for the shock that has currently stopped my system. How would I get home? Was there a way to get back to Skyloft from here? My eyes widen as I realize that I might never see the sky again - might never see PIPIT again. And my heart sinks to my feet, I can feel a terrible pain in my stomach, it seems like a hole is developing in my gut.

"F-Fi?" I manage, eyes trained on the sky. She is silent for a moment, as if reguarding my current facial expression and trying to determine my mood.

"Master, I believe you are panicking. What is troubling you?"

"Will I ever see Pipit again?" The words are out of my mouth before i can stop them - before I can regain my composure and realize that, I am talking to a sword, she might not even know who Pipit is. Fi cocks her head.

"Pipit is...a close friend of yours, yes?" I nod, though "close friend" doesn't even begin to describe the sort of feelings I get around Pipit - the way my heart starts hammering and my palms start sweating and my tongue gets tied and I can't say anything that makes sense to me, but Pipit always laughs because he knows that I'm me, and he thinks it's funny when I trip over my words.

"We will find ways to get back to Skyloft, master, there is no need to fear. Now I believe we should proceed to find Zelda." I nod again, feeling slightly relieved, before continuing on my way.


	3. Undone

He loved to watch the hero come undone.

Watch him writhe and whimper and try so desperately to fight against his natural, human wants, watch him bite that lower lip of his until a thin crimson line dripped down his chin, all for the sake of keeping those _delicious_ cries inside. The hero tried _so_ hard to resist him.

Which was why the demon lord enjoyed breaking him so. He had a strategy, a very specific pattern that never failed to leave the Sky Child breathless and begging.

He would start with teasing words, most often murmured into the boy's ear as if in secret, though they were always alone when they met and needn't fear someone walking in on them. The little hero always tried to resist, but Ghirahim knew exactly which words would bring that lovely shade of red on his face to the surface.

"S-stop it, Ghirahim..." would always be the boy's red-faced, stammered defence. He spoke so softly, the man occasionally had to strain to hear this phrase. However, when the words left the hero's lips, the demon lord would simply smirk and continue with his undoing.

Soft, tantelizing touches to the Sky Child's face, neck and chest would constantly make the boy fight against his desires. The Demon Lord found it amusing how little effort it took to make him squirm and whimper - simply pinning his hands above his head and rendering him helpless was almost enough.

Because while the Sky Child would avidly deny it, Ghirahim knew he itched to surrender control. He wanted to be overpowered by the Demon Lord, wanted to succumb to the soft touches and the empty promises and just _exist, _just _feel, _as humans often did.

Of course, Ghirahim was more than hapy to oblige with heated kisses and heavy petting that made the goddess' hero tremble under his touch, made delicious whines and whimpers escape that lovely throat of his.

As quiet as the boy normally was, not even the Demon Lord himself would have guessed he would be so vocal in the thoroughs of passion.

Occassionally, Ghirahim would allow his sadistic nature a bit of fun with the child. Bites that left bruises on his pale neck, angry red lines left by nails along his chest and back - even more rarely, the demon lord would use his knives. Of course, he kept this to a minimum for now. The boy had to enjoy it, as well, or the level of satisfaction he felt at seeing the Sky Child's shame would be much less...gratifying.

However, there were times when the boy seemed to crave the violence, ache for the pain. During these nights Ghirahim had his way, with blades and ropes and whatever else he could coax the boy into trusting him with.

And the Hero simply _relished_ the attention.

Ghirahim would sit next to him wherever they had happened to have their little romp. The hero would fall asleep almost immediately after, so exhausted emotionally and physically - Ghirahim was quite the lover, or so he had often been told. The Demon Lord would simply sit and stare at the hero's face, and he would wonder when his hair had gotten so blond, when his eyes had gotten so blue, when his skin had gotten so soft and when the hero, his enemy and the enemy of his master had become so damn _irresistable._


	4. Fistfights  AU

I hit the pavement and hear a sickening crack, feel my teeth digging into the skin on the inside of my cheek. I taste blood. My heart is hammering in my ears, my breath coming out in ragged gasps, as I slowly turn my head to face the damn bastard. He's laughing, looking so smug and turning to face each of his friends in turn.

"See? told you this kid couldn't take me." he bends at the waist, a smirk on his ugly face, and says smugly, "I'll just go ahead back to your apartment and take what belongs to me."

My vision seems to turn red. He can hurt me all he wants, but if he's going to threaten Ghirahim, I refuse to take that lying down. I put my hands palm-down on the parking lot ground, clenching my teeth, and push myself up, glaring at him with my one good eye (he punched the other one and it was currently swelling shut.), and spit some of the blood from my mouth at him.

"There's nothing...in my home...that belongs to you...you bastard." my lip curls in anger, and I stand slowly, my legs shaking beneath my weight, "I swear to god...if you lay one finger on him...I'll kill you..."

His friends stare at me for a moment before laughing, some of them patting him on the back as they cackle. His sneer never leaves his mouth.

"You? kill ME? I'd love to see you try, ya little brat."  
>I narrow my eyes, clench my fists, and take a blind swing...<p>

and feel myself hit the pavement again, my cheek scratching against the gravel. I let out a squeak, but refuse to give in. I'm not going to allow him to hurt Ghirahim. I would die first.

I stand again, swaying slightly on my feet, spots appearing before my eyes. I blink them away as quickly as I can.

"I'm not...I'm not going to let you hurt him." I curse my voice for betraying my exhaustion. I'm just so tired.

He seems to ignore me as he turns to look at his lackeys, his smirk still there.

"Wonder if the bitch'll be any better in bed. After all he's had plenty of practice now."  
>I grit my teeth, the one side of my lip curled into a snarl.<p>

"Don't you DARE say things like that about him."

He turns his attention back to me, eyes narrowed in myrth.

"I'm just stating the obvious. He's a whore."

The last three words of his sentence echo through my mind, and the edges of my vision turn red as I lunge at him, fist drawn back to throw a punch. I feel my knuckles come into contact with skin and bone, hear a crack and feel my knees hit the pavement on either side of a body. My arms seem to have a mind of their own, and I land blow after blow on his smug damn face. I'm intent on leaving permanent scars, reminders of what happens when he messes with my lover...

I feel two pairs of hands seize both my arms, jerking me backwards so that my skull cracks against the pavement once again. I grunt, spots clouding my vision as I try to focus on what's happening at this moment.

The two men who had been standing on either side of the bastard are staring at him as he lays on the ground opposite me, trying to sit up. They seem unsure of what to do - of whether he'll want to be a man and fight me himself or have them gang up on me. I'm betting on the latter, judging by the condition of his face.

He's wheezing, glaring, and his eyes are dangerous. For a brief second, I feel genuine fear for my life. I shake it off, because damn it all if I'm just going to walk away from this and let this guy torment Ghirahim for the rest of our lives.

He stands much like I had earlier, on shaking legs, his eyes still locked with mine, filled with anger and bloodlust. He spits a bit of blood onto the pavement, gritting his teeth.

"I was going to go easy on you, kid..." he begins, standing up a little straighter to assert that he was the one in charge, "but you just signed your own death warrant." he nods once in my general direction, and the two on the sides take that as the OK to strike.

They each grab an arm again, heaving me to my feet and holding me steady. My vision is still filled with white stars, and I'm getting dizzy, it's becoming hard to keep my eyes open, but I'm not giving up.

He struts toward me, that same smirk back on his face, looks me over once, and lands a blow to my stomach. I feel the air leave my lungs in a _whoosh_, and start gasping, my body begging for oxygen.

I feel his calloused fingers on my cheeks, and he forces my face up to look at his. I keep my gaze as hard as possible, refusing to show weakness or any slight whisper of any synonyms. He leans in close to my face, sneering.

"Why are you fighting so hard for that slut?" I spit in his face, grit my teeth, and put all my weight on my arms, pulling myself up off both feet to kick him in the chest. He grunts and stumbles, but it doesn't have quite the effect I had hoped it would. He begins to laugh, eyes glowing dangerously once again. "You've got spunk, kid. I'll give you that. It'd be refreshing if it wasn't so goddamn annoying." He punches me again, this time in the mouth, and I taste blood, along with feeling another rush of dizziness. "Face it, you can't win here. You're outnumbered, and you're just some little foreign kid who's getting in way over his head."

My chest is heaving, but I glare up at him anyway, letting my anger fuel my words.

"No matter how hard you kick me, I'll always get back up. You can beat me down and choke me and try to get rid of me, but I will always be here, always causing you trouble, as long as you're posing a threat to the person I love. You'll never be rid of me, dumbass, so you'd better get used to the 'spunk', because it's gonna come around and bite you in the ass one of these days, and you'll be sorry you underestimated me."

Something in my eyes pisses him off, I guess. He proceeds to land blow after blow on my face and chest, putting everything he has into making me bleed. When the punches finally let up, his friends drop me on my face, leaving me to inhale the smell of old cigarette butts and tar. I cough once, twice, before easing up onto my hands and knees, and then shakily to my feet, my breath coming in pained wheezes. He's got his back to me, he's walking away.

**No.**

I jump him again, managing to somehow throw off his center of balance enough to take him down with me, grab him by the hair and proceed to smash his face against the parking lot. My words are coming out in short, angry bursts.

"**You. Will. NOT. Touch him. Ever. AGAIN.**"

I hear a sickening crack, and I'm sure I've broken his nose, because he screams in pain. I let up, finally, not removing my hand from his scalp or moving from his person, but at least stop bashing his face in. I'm panting, my breathing ragged, through clenched teeth. I lean down, glaring.

"Swear on your life that you'll never touch him, call him, even fucking THINK about him again, and I won't bash your skull into your brain."

My voice scares me a little. And I can tell it scares him too. He grunts in the affermative, but that's not good enough for me.

"I said **swear on your life**, you fucking bastard." my grip on his hair tightens slightly, but it's meant to be menacing. That's how he takes it, too.

"Fine, dammit, I fucking swear."

I nod, satisfied, and throw his face down onto the pavement once more before standing, trying to put on the illusion of a calm demeanor while my head is spinning in a thousand different directions.

"If I hear about you again, I swear to god, you won't like what happens."

I don't even know if I can fight him again. I'm not usually a violent person, and even as I walk away the knowledge that I knowingly hurt another human being is starting to weigh on me heavily, making me feel slightly sick to my stomach. I shake my head, because I know it was worth it, I know that I protected Ghirahim, I finally made good on my promise to protect him. That thought alone is probably what allows me to walk home.

I don't want Ghirahim to know what happened, but the second I walk through the door to our flat, he's there, kneeling on the couch with his hands on the back of it, his eyes wide at seeing the bruises that are already starting to show on my neck and face, the split lip and the blood in my teeth and on my clothes.

He knows I'm not violent. He probably thinks I got mugged.

"Oh my god, baby, what happened?" he's vaulted over the back of the couch and he's at my side in a split second, gently touching my face to avoid hurting me, but wanting to inspect the wounds closely.

I smile, though I know he can tell it's forced, and wave it off, trying to pretend that it's not a big deal.

"No-"

"If you say nothing I swear to god." he interrupts me, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Was it that Groose kid? Dammit all, I told you he's trouble-"

I laugh, shaking my head and resting my cheek on his chest, putting my arms around him.

"No, no, it wasn't Groose, I promise."

"Tell me what happened. Right now."

I sigh softly, pulling my face away from his shirt, trying to avoid staining it with my blood.

"I...couldn't just let him...walk all over you like that. I had to...I had to do something..."

His eyes go wide as dinner plates, and he pulls me into a fierce hug, his breathing accelerating dangerously.

"Link, you...you fought _him?___Are you fucking CRAZY?" he cups my face lovingly, though his words are frenzied and afraid, "he's like five times your size! You're lucky he didn't kill you!"

Through all his fussing, I manage to get out two words.

"I won."

He freezes, his hands lingering on my skin as if he doesn't believe what I've just told him. He stares at me, blinking.

"you..."

"I won." I smile at him, "I told you, I wanted to keep you safe. So I did."

"He's...he'll leave me alone?"

I nod, my smile still there, though I can feel my eyelids growing heavy. He pulls me into a gentle embrace, still treading carefully as though he believes I could be lying.

"You...you really..." I can tell he's holding back tears, hoping that they are tears of relief and not disbelief, though there seems to be a mixture of the two on his face. "Link...I can't believe you..."

"I wasn't going to let him threaten you and scare you like he was." I lower my voice to a whisper. "I love you and want to keep you safe."

He lets out a soft laugh, hugging me close to him and murmuring in my ear lovingly.

"You really are my hero, Link."


End file.
